


Water, Water, Everywhere (or: Beach Benedict)

by froofie



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Outdoor Sex, Shower Sex, Star Trek: Into Darkness, vacation sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froofie/pseuds/froofie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A playful Benedict Cumberbatch takes you on a well-deserved beach vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water, Water, Everywhere (or: Beach Benedict)

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to thelauraface
> 
> Many thanks to qhuaylover for the edits, input and insights.
> 
> Another story inspired by an image. All I wanted to do was bite his love handles...and I got 10 pages out of it. :)

 

The minute he was done filming Star Trek, Benedict booked a holiday for you both to some secluded island you’d never heard of (hence the word “secluded”). He certainly didn’t have to pull your arm as you’d been gasping for a vacation for years and he just never had the time to take one with you.  
  
So here you are, first day of the trip, lying on the beach in your new red bikini. Benedict had taken a fancy to your swimwear as it was all ties: the top tied at the neck and around the back and the bottoms tied at your hips. Every chance he got he would playfully flick his finger over a bow as if to say to it, “I’ll be back for you later.”  
  
He’d been out swimming in the ocean while you napped under an umbrella, enjoying the peace and utter tranquility of your surroundings, thinking about him. It had been a few months since you saw each other last, the filming schedule was brutal; there was very little downtime for Benedict and when there was, he was at the gym bulking up for the part. Just as you are recalling him telling you the painful exercises he was made to do, you see him coming out of the ocean, walking slowly as his body fights a little against the current. It certainly makes for a sexy gait. You make a silent prayer of gratitude to all those trainers. Normally you find Benedict’s method acting practices to be a bit annoying now and again. Not only is he really good at denying himself things like yummy foods to get thin for a part (which means no ice cream in the house for weeks on end), he sometimes can’t help but take on bits of the roles he’s playing. And you worried about how he would behave after playing his first “bad guy” in a major film, but he has been nothing but the sweet, goofy emotionally available man you fell in love with. Still as attentive and helpful as ever. And as a special bonus (not specifically for you, but you’re taking advantage), he’s got an even more slamming body. It’s never been more obvious, or more arousing than right now: as he walks towards you, he pushes back his wet black fringe from his face and, because his arms are both up taming the locks, his chest is puffed up, his biceps are flexed and his waist is super tight. All of the bulk up top brings your focus swiftly to the narrowness of his hips and legs, which are plastered by his tight swim trunks. You get a slight glimpse of his manhood being cradled by the fabric, moving from side to side a little as he walks and it makes you tingle. You’re glad he can’t see you undress him behind your sunglasses.  
  
He makes his way over to you and plants a quick kiss on your lips. His wet skin is dripping salt water on you but it feels so good on your hot skin. He lays down in the chair next to you, reaching over to hold your hand. It’s blissfully quiet out and you appreciate the privacy.  
  
“I missed you,” he says, gazing up at the blue sky.  
  
“You were only out there for 20 minutes,” you reply.  
  
“No, I missed you these past few months,” he clarifies, taking in a deep breath. “It was a wonderful project to work on and my castmates were incredible, but nothing compares to being near you.”  
  
His words make you feel like the only living angel on earth. How does he DO THAT? You shift on your side to face him, pushing your shades up to rest on top of your head. “Aww, I missed you, too.”  He turns his head to look at you. You move his errant curl out of his squinting eyes. You smile at each other, diving deep into each others gaze.  
  
He leans over and kisses you again, gently, and you breathe in his love, your own love. You really do feel like you’re the only two people in the world now. You lie back down to soak it all in again.  He sits up on the chair, swings his legs around to face you, suddenly full of ... some kind of energy you can’t put your finger on -  
  
“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.” he says.  
  
“But I’m not...we-”  
  
Suddenly you realize what’s come over him. It’s mischief. Just as it dawns on you, but right before you can run away, he lays his dripping wet body on top of yours and shimmies.  
  
“Now you are!” he laughs that deep throaty laugh of his.  
  
You squeal and yell, “BENEDICT!”  But it’s too late, he’s grabbed you and is carrying you in his arms back to the bungalow. He’s making giant strides to the right and left, like he’s King Kong and you’re his movie starlet captive. You can’t help but laugh and enjoy being carried off, your hands in fists playfully punching at the beast's chest to get away.  
  
He chases you around the bungalow while you try and get supplies to take a shower. You squeal and run away, but never fast enough that he doesn’t catch you and when he does, he pinches your bottom and makes a monkey noise. There is nothing hotter.  
  
You manage to find towels and washcloths, liquid soap and shampoo and he chases you (snapping you with another towel he’s found) out into the open shower on the back deck.  
  
You’d never seen anything like this: an open-air shower that could easily fit 6 people. No ceiling, but there are three walls that screen out....who? There’s no one around for miles, no other house or hotel. Still, there are multiple square shower heads sunk into the blue-green stone tiles, one hand-held shower head and two teak moveable benches. For safety’s sake (though you don’t know why because the floor is rough and steady even when wet) there are horizontal handlebars waist high along the walls. The missing wall looks out onto the  sunken Jacuzzi bathtub and the back wall of the bungalow. The rest of the covered deck, with the canopy outdoor bed, juts off to the right of everything and there's a perfect view of the ocean.  
  
You leave the towels by the Jacuzzi and head into the shower, still in your bathing suits. Benedict tries to figure out how to turn on the water and manages to turn on ALL the shower heads at once and you’re both blasted with water streams from every direction. You scream in shock.  
  
“Whoops!” he laughs and manages to control all the showerheads to a reasonable pressure and temperature.  
  
You're both laughing uncontrollably. You snort and cover your mouth in embarrassment but you know he finds it so sexy when you do that. He walks towards you, holding his own laugh in his hands, forgetting that no one can hear him but you. He keeps walking when he reaches you and you’re forced against the shower wall, a light drizzle of water falls over the front of your body for a moment. He presses you against the warm tile, places both hands on either side of your face and kisses you.  
  
“You’re adorable,” he says and you’re still giggling a little until he changes the mood by kissing you again, communicating his passion with his mouth and tongue, guiding your head up to meet his. You wrap your arms around his neck and surrender, opening your mouth wider and wider with every kiss. His tongue plays in and out, sweeping and teasing. He tastes salty and his skin smells fresh and sunny. Waves of energy pool in your belly and your heart starts pounding. He caresses your cheeks with his thumbs while nipping at your bottom lip.  
  
The water is gently flowing over the back of Benedict’s head and onto his shoulders and chest. It’s incredibly sexy and you feel you have no other choice but to take action and express your passion. You take his hands from your face, lacing your fingers together, hold them behind his back and pin him to the wall. You greedily lick the up the right side of his neck and bite at the top of his jawbone. You repeat this several times while he squirms underneath you. You grab his earlobe with your teeth and pull a little, tickling the lobe inside your mouth with your tongue. He starts panting as your tongue sweeps in his ear. "You sexy beast," you growl into his ear.  You feel his chest heaving against yours, like an animal stuck in a cage. He wants to move his hands but you won’t let him. He lets out a deep whimper. You let out an evil laugh and smile against his mouth. He smiles and you catch his cheekbone in your mouth and suck a little. You return to his mouth, rubbing your breasts against his chest. He lets out a curious “mmm!” at the sensation. You decide to make it “worse” for him: You bring your lips to his, open his mouth a little, invite your tongue in  just  to his teeth and wait for his to reach out to yours, which it does, eagerly. You lap at his tongue while making blatant “uhn” noises over and over into his mouth as you slide your body against his. You feel him growing hard at your boldness.  
  
He grunts in relaxed frustration and pushes himself off the wall (you forget he got much stronger while he was away) reaches his arms around, moves your arms above your head, and after spinning you back around, holds them there against the tile, he starts to undo the top part of your bikini, first the top bow and then the back. Your top falls to the shower floor. He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you tight to him, crushing his lips on yours, your breasts against him, opening your mouth until you are panting into each other. He pulls away from you for a moment.  
  
“You think about what you’ve done,” he teasingly commands in a deep voice you've never heard from him and you suddenly realize he’s channeled a bit of the bad guy from the movie. There’s a twinkle in his eye, though, so you let him continue. He’s only using the moment to step to the side and grab the liquid soap. He guides you over to another wall, against the safety railing by the handheld showerhead. You put your hands on either side of the bar to hold yourself steady, ready to submit to him.  He snaps open the bottle and pours a little in his hand, watching you, cocking an eyebrow. He puts the bottle down and rubs his hands together. He comes to you and kisses you again, taking his hands and running them up and down the back of your neck and shoulders, massaging in the soap. He glides his hands over your outstretched arms which makes him press into you and you feel his impatient erection. You bite your lip and he sees it. He loves drawing this out. He reaches down for more soap, looks down at your body and begins to massage the soap onto your breasts, taking his time, clearly enjoying how you feel in his hands. He turns you around so you're spread eagle against the wall and rubs the soap on your back and reaches around to your belly. He sucks on your soapy neck as his right hand trails down to your groin and cups you briefly. He grabs the showerhead and begins to rinse you off, watching the soapy water flowing over your beautiful body. You turn around to watch him looking at you. He puts the shower head back and kneels down in front of you. On his way down, he takes each breast into his mouth one at a time and sucks, hungrily. You look down to see his pouty full peaked lips around your nipple, his eyes closed, then he moves to the next breast and does the same. Once he is on his knees, he holds your hips steady with both hands. Your hands rest in this wet black bad boy hair.  He leans in to one side, grabs the string of one bow in his teeth, looks up to make sure you are watching and pulls. He moves his head to the other bow and does the same. He reaches around, gliding his right hand over your butt and pulls the bikini bottom off slowly.  He takes more soap and sweetly and carefully washes and rinses off your bottom half.    
  
He stands up, gazing down into your eyes, telling you everything you need to know without a word. You reach down and pull at the string of his waistband, opening his trunks just a little at the top. His shorts cling to him like a second skin. You can see the outline of his manhood through the fabric and your pulse starts racing with anticipation, your mouth begins to water. You reach in and take hold of his penis and he shifts his head back with a moan. He peels off his trunks and they land on the floor with a wet slop. He kisses you, holding your chin up with his hand while you stroke him with one hand and caress one butt cheek with the other. The more you stroke, the harder his kisses become.  
  
You reach down for the shampoo and, in your own fit of mischief, squeeze half the bottle’s contents over his hair, his shoulders, his chest and stomach and a little over his jutting erection. He lets out a deep giggle. God, the sight of him, naked, fully erect, totally muscular, covered in goo and smiling at you is too much. “Oh God I love you,” you sigh. He smiles through the bubbles on his cheeks.  
  
You massage the shampoo in his hair, taking more time than necessary to lather him up. You rinse it away before it gets in his eyes. You continue to rub your hands over his broad back, down his arms, across his chest, down his washboard stomach, to his penis, his ass, down his thighs and calves. The slipperiness of the soap accentuates just how muscular and powerful he is to touch. You feel your womanhood opening in response. You stand back and admire your handiwork: he looks like a sexy Mr Bubble. You rinse off the soap and continue to run your hands over his chest. You cannot stop touching his breast muscles. His areola are tight and you suck on them for a long time, trying somehow to get inside him. His waist is thicker than you remember and you’re completely drawn to his love-handles. You bend down and bite them each, gently. While you’re down there, you show a little attention to his erection. You kiss up the shaft delicately, enjoying the sensation of his skin and veins on your soft lips. You lick the tip swiftly before standing back up. You massage his neck and shoulders and marvel at your tiny hands rubbing and touching this very masculine creature. You walk behind him, caressing his butt, running your hands up his tiny waist to his broad shoulders. You embrace him from behind, trailing your hands up and down his muscular stomach. He leans back into you just enough for you to understand he likes what you're doing. You kiss his back, you take big bites of his shoulder blades, enough for him really feel your teeth. You take his erection in your right hand, gripping as hard as you are biting. From this angle it feels like the penis is yours and you feel turned on in a new way. You stroke him as you would stroke yourself, wantonly. You get lost in your imagination and are brought back to reality by feeling him reaching behind to try and grab your butt. You take one of his arms and, giving his back one last kiss, pull away.  
  
He reaches over and turns off the water, walks over for the towels, puts one on a teak bench and returns to you with the other. “Now,” he says again in that deep movie-man voice, “where shall I begin?” You look up at him, vulnerable. He sweeps the towel over one of his shoulders and walks behind you. He sweetly gathers your hair at your neck and squeezes out the excess water, which drips down your back and travels down your bottom, your legs and pools at both your feet. He takes the towel and tenderly dries your head and sweeps the towel down over your back, your butt, and folds each leg in the dry fabric, moving up and down. He moves to face you, wipes your face dry, your shoulders and arms, your breasts, your stomach. He kneels down before you and tenderly wipes your nether region, kissing at your hip, dropping the towel and wrapping his arms around your waist, your pubic bone pushed into his face. He takes in a deep breath, inhaling your clean body. You’ve never felt more worshipped and adored. You lovingly stroke his hair, noticing his natural color sprouting through near his scalp. He’s a yin and yang: the sexy bad guy and the sweet gentleman.  
  
He takes a deep breath, stands up, grabs the second towel and hands it to you. But before you can start to dry him off, he scoops you up and starts walking out of the shower. “Bed,” he says commandingly as you run the towel over his hair while you’re carried to the canopied bed on the deck. He lays you on the right side edge of the bed and you sink into the fluffy white comforter. He kneels on the floor and spreads your legs with his hands. He gestures for you to lie back and you do. He puts your feet up on the bed for a moment. His hands travel slowly from the tops of your knees, down to your sex. He leans into you and begins licking you from back to front, lapping over and over, occasionally stopping to kiss your lips tenderly, seeking and drawing out your wetness that was washed away in the shower. You wrap your legs around his neck and shoulders which gives him permission to stay longer. He’s running his hands along the outside of your thighs and over your stomach while he loves you. He moves his mouth, his red thick wet lips, to your clitoris and you suck in a breath as he deftly flicks his tongue over it, flicking then sucking, flicking then sucking.  
  
“Yes!” you let out a cry and push your groin into him, wetness returning. His kisses and suction and tongue play become more insistent and demanding and you realize he’s fucking you with his face. He breathes hot animalistic breath on your upper thigh. He bites you there and looks up at you. You give him a pleading look. He takes your feet and legs from his neck, widens them out and crawls slowly on top of you, pinning your arms above your head and kisses you. He feels heavy and damp, safe and loving. You feel expansive, all thoughts have escaped and run down the drain.  
  
Hooking an ankle around his thigh, you push gently on his shoulder. He looks at you, eyebrow raised in inquiry until you push again and he gets the hint. Rolling onto his back, he holds on to your waist and brings you with him in one fluid motion, settling you on his belly, looking down at him.  
  
You straddle his torso, running your hands over his pecs, winding them up his neck, over his ears and through his hair. He’s watching you intently, enjoying the sensation of being touched by you. He licks his lips and closes his eyes.  
  
Taking advantage of his momentary inattention, you shimmy down a bit, mouthing wet kisses on his chest, trailing your tongue across his already pearled nipples; first the left, then the right. You follow the sparse path of hair to his belly button, where you dally a bit, dipping your tongue in. He’s ticklish there, you know, and you’re so very happy that you are the only one on this earth who knows that. Soon you move to the spot beneath it. You kiss the tender flesh and worry it with your teeth a while, then pull back at the redding mark you have left. You smile because he’ll see that, even tomorrow, and be reminded of today. Pushing his legs apart so that you can nestle comfortably in between, you let the warm flesh of his cock rub against your cheek. You feel the wetness there and you feel marked. Your hands stray to his chest and his hands cover yours. You feel his heart beating a hard, fast staccato. His breath is controlled, as if he has to think about it. You turn your head and decide not to be coy. Instead, you engulf him all in one motion, bringing him inside your mouth as far as you can, his cockhead bumping the back of your throat. You sit for a moment, allowing your throat to adjust before you move your tongue along the underside, along the ridge. You can feel his heartbeat against the roof of your mouth, in your lips, on your tongue. He tastes salty and bitter, and altogether uniquely him. The fingers of one hand curl in your hair and he groans as you slide your mouth up and down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks. His hips move subtly, and his palm presses your head just enough to know that he’s restraining himself. He wants to fuck your mouth, but doesn’t want this to end that quickly. A couple more firm, even sucks and you run your tongue around the crown of his cock, lingering on the sensitive underside before you dip it into the slit on top, tasting his precome one more time. Mmm. Your favorite.  
  
You sit back up, straddling him once again, leaning over with your hands on either side of him and you rub your growing wetness over his erection, opening the folds of your labia a little around his shaft as if to kiss it. You close your eyes and continue to rub, focusing now on your increasing pleasure.  You lean down to suck on his nipple. He wraps his warm arms around you. You lean up and kiss his closed eyelids, his nose and, you notice he’s opened his mouth in wanting. You place your lips on his, your tongues meet and lick languidly for a while.  
  
Pushing yourself up, you kneel over him, take hold of his hardness, taking the time to enjoy how he feels in your hand and, just as you are about to push him inside you, you look at him laid out: so very sexy with his black fringe splayed over his creamy pale face, his engorged lips, his glistening muscles, looking slightly different than you’re used to. You feel...like a bad girl suddenly. It turns you on. You say, “Talk to me in that voice.”  
  
“What voice?” he asks.  
  
“The bad guy voice. Whatever character you played in Star Trek.”  
  
He sits up, looks you in the eye and you see something behind them change as he says, “You think your world is safe....” The voice comes rumbling from his chest.  
  
“Oh God,” you whisper and roll your eyes back. You stroke him and he continues, “It is an illuuuusion....” You stare deeply, watching his face as you guide him inside you, taking your time to let him fill you completely. He lets out a breath through his mouth. You move your head back, exposing your neck.  
  
“Keep going,” you say and push him back down on the bed. You lean over his body, rocking forward and back, moving him in and out of you. He almost can’t get the words out, “...is there anything you would not do?” You grind into him harder.  
  
“Enjoy these final moments.” You feel an energy stirring inside you. He tips his pelvis up and thrusts into you just as you rock back on him. You growl with pleasure, closing your eyes. It’s becoming clear that he wants control, his thrusting becoming more dominant than yours. You love to feel him pushing himself into you, seeking pleasure for himself and you give it to him. You sit up, reach around and caress his testicles while you swivel your hips which sends him reeling. He reaches around to hold you and swifty rolls you on your back. You wrap your legs around him, staring into his eyes, his face close to yours. He’s stirring within you, you wrap your muscles around and hold him inside you. He looks down at you and brushes the hair out of your face.  
  
“I love you,” he smiles, dropping the villain persona. You suddenly feel so enveloped by his emotions. You reach up and stroke his face.  
  
He lifts himself up, pulls out of you for a moment, kneeling between your legs, his erection glistening. He strokes his penis, feeling your wetness around his shaft. He cocks his head back in pleasure. He takes the head of his penis and rubs it over your clitoris watching your breathing patterns change from slow to quick as he changes his pace. You reach down to feel him moving over you, so slick. Wetness is pooling out of you. He reaches down and places his hand on top of yours. He feels you move his penis in a rhythm that pleases you, faster and faster. Your breath quickens, you feel yourself start to sink out of your brain. “I’m....I’m getting there...” you manage to tell him. You look up to him and see this amazingly beautiful creature, black fringe sweeping across his brow, a look of concentration and desire swimming in his eyes. He appears both incredibly masculine and incredibly vulnerable. You feel so happy to be with him.  
  
He moves back to your opening and helps himself back inside, though just his head, teasing you. You open your mouth, which only makes you realize how wide you are elsewhere and how little he’s giving you. He pulls out again and you make a muffled sound as he pushes the head in again, just a little. You start feverishly rubbing yourself, feeling the muscles around your vagina stretch and release, the combination of both sensations is delicious. Your tension is rising fast. He holds his hand over yours again, feeling your pace, how you’re pleasing yourself  just as he pushes himself in completely. “Oh, God now,” you whisper. You reach forward and grab onto his butt muscles, feel them tense with every thrust, feel his skin, so soft over hard muscle. Feel yourself go over the edge, everything throbbing, everything blank. Your toes curl under as the nerves in them contract. He begins moving faster, into his own rhythmic need, feeling you pulse around him, squeezing him tight inside, holding on to his body, panting as you come down and he orgasms. His body stiffens and he shudders. The itch is too delicious and you both luxuriate in a sense of satisfaction.  
  
He gently pulls out of you once your breathing returns to normal. He plants tender kisses with his perfect mouth as he travels up from your lower abdomen (kiss.), your stomach (kiss.) to each breast (kiss. kiss.) to your heart (kiss.), your collarbone (kiss.) your throat (kiss.), your jaw (kiss.) to your mouth (kiss.). He lays down next to you, your heads touching, both of you quietly coming down, staring up into the dusky sky.  The warm air caresses your skin, occasionally sending you a passing scent of soap and ocean air. The tropical birds chirp in the trees all around.  
  
"Come here," you hear him say and you scoot closer to him. He wraps you in his arms and you suddenly realize you're cold. He kisses your hair and sits you both up. He finds a fluffy white spa robe and helps you into it.  
  
He takes your hand and leads you like a gentleman to the hammock on the deck. You lie together, arms around each other, rocking side to side, until you both drift off to sleep.  
  
oOoOo  
  
When you wake up, you’re not sure what time it is. A full moon teases the watery horizon in front of you. It takes you a moment to realize you’re alone on the hammock and you hear running water. You turn to face the deck and you take in a quick breath. There are white candles lit everywhere, the bed has been made with fresh linens and  your swimsuits and towels are drying on a clothesline. Just as you start to sit up, Benedict, looking strikingly beautiful in another fluffy white robe,  enters the deck carrying a tray of what looks like cut up fruits and cheeses and two glasses. He doesn’t notice you right away and you watch him mentally tick off the things he needed to do (bed: check. suits: check. food: check. bath drawn: check.). He looks pleased with himself and he looks over to see if you’re awake. You lock eyes and you smile at him. He beams at you like a proud boy, which is such a contrast to how manly he looks. He walks over to the hammock and places a kiss on your cheek.  
  
“Good evening,” he helps you up.  
  
“This is beautiful,” you say in awe and then you notice the Jacuzzi full of bubbles and a bottle of champagne next to it on the floor. He walks you towards everything.  
  
“I thought you might be peckish so I made a platter of food. Also thought you’d like a proper bath,” he blushes at the insinuation that you both got a little dirty earlier.  
  
“Thank you, you think of everything,” you gush and stand up on your tippy toes to kiss his dimpled cheek.  
  
“Shall we?” he motions towards the tub, inviting you to go first.  
  
“Yes, please.” You remove your robes and he holds your hand to help you into the Jacuzzi. You think to yourself that the two of you must look like a very polite Adam and Eve.  
  
You slip into the warm water and he follows behind, bringing the food and drinks to the edge. He motions for you to sit with your back against his chest and when you’re settled in, he wraps his arms under your breasts and kisses you on the left side of your head. You place your arms on top of his and run your hands along his forearms. You feel his legs wrap around yours under the water. You feel so loved and protected. You look up at the night sky, leaning your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, feeling everything around and inside you.  
  
He reaches to pour the champagne and offers you a glass, placing a strawberry inside it because he knows you like it like that. You both enjoy the simple feast he’s prepared. While you eat he talks about pranks that got pulled on him during the Star Trek shooting and when he laughs at himself for being so gullible, his chest reverberates, the vibrations ripple through you and pulls a laugh from you, too. God, how you love this man.  
  
Once you’re both full of the delicacies of the island (or at least, the refrigerator), satisfied in each other’s company, he starts playing with the bubbles that have surprisingly kept their shape and buoyancy during your meal. He lifts a fluffy cloud onto his hands, brings them to your face and you blow to release them into the air. Leave it to Benedict though, to change the scene: he takes another handful of bubbles and brings it up to you, only to smash them into your face lightly.  
  
“Benedict!” you yell, accusingly, not for the first time today you recall. This starts a bit of a bubble war between you and you eventually end up sitting across from him in the tub laughing, the bubbles all flattened out or blown away (or, you quietly congratulate yourself: piled up on top of his head like a gnome hat). You decide to take him out of his gnomy misery and motion for him to join you.  
  
“Come ‘ere” you beckon with a crook of your finger and a waggle of your eyebrow. He readily obeys. He places his hands on your thighs to steady himself in the water. You sweep the bubbles from his hair and take a moment to look at his face. He is incredibly beautiful like this: dark hair mussed, black pupils overtaking his piercing grey irises, his perfect nose, his rosy luscious lips, the crook of a little smile he’s giving you, unsure of what you’re thinking. You hold his head in your hands and bring his mouth to yours, pressing your lips together. You take in a deep breath through your nose (noticing now that he put on cologne while you were asleep. Jesus). You feel his stubble that has started to sprout against your hands, the roughness of his skin on your softness. He breathes in, too, and you both open your mouths and kiss passionately. He crushes you to his chest, wraps his arms tight around you, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He swims you both over to his side of the jacuzzi and sits down. There’s just enough room for you to straddle him on the bench. You stay locked like this, kissing and breathing, kissing and breathing. His hands splay out wide and begin to travel up and down your back, trying to bring you as close as possible. You lean away, arching back a little, enjoying the pressure. He leans down to kiss your neck, licking every possible inch. You feel him going hard against you. You sit back up and your noses touch, smiling into each other’s eyes, mischief flowing again between you.  
  
“I don’t think we’re ever going to get completely clean during this trip,” you say against his mouth. He smiles wickedly, holds you tight and dips you backwards into the water, surprising you. He brings you quickly back to the surface and you gasp for breath.  
  
“Agreed,” he chuckles.  
  
You secretly plan your next move.


End file.
